


Together

by MoonlightTaylor



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-16 02:12:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18682033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightTaylor/pseuds/MoonlightTaylor
Summary: Re-imagined ending to Avengers: Endgame. Don’t read if you haven’t seen the movie yet as there will be spoilers.





	1. Tony

**Author's Note:**

> If you’ve come this far, you’ve agreed to see spoilers. Turn back if you’ve made some sort of mistake. 
> 
> Anyways, for those who have seen the movie: I loved most of it, I just didn’t think some of the endings did the characters justice, so I basically wrote the endings I would liked to have seen. Each of the chapter will focus on a particular character, in this order: Tony, Steve and Thor. Other characters will be woven in a bit through their arcs. Just some happiness and much needed catharsis :) Enjoy!

Grey ships, swirling water, stars dancing before his eyes. Tony has been in this position too many times before. The suit is malfunctioning on all sides, FRIDAY reading out concerning statistics about the battle. He can’t help but be reminded of Strange’s prediction back on Titan. 14,000,605 possible futures, and only one that will end right.

As he staggers to his knees, his eyes can’t help but flick to the doctor. A tornado of water rises over the man, but he still takes the time to meet Tony’s gaze and raise one finger. Something deep and heavy settles in Tony’s gut. He turns away, watches Thanos pick up the gauntlet, stones glinting and lighting up that hot-rod red. This isn’t the first time that something Tony created has come back to bite him in the ass.

One chance in 14,000,605. Enough of a chance that Tony’s life was suddenly worth trading for the time stone. Which means he must be important. Fuck. Fuuuuuck. This was exactly what he was trying to avoid.

Still, some part of him had known this was coming for a while now: ever since Thanos knew his name, since he warned a world that would never listen about the extraterrestrial dangers waiting for them. Or maybe he’d known it earlier still. Maybe he saw his destiny spelled out in the stars over New York all those years ago. Now finally the world has gathered an army and, somehow, it’s still up to him. Goddamnit.

All Tony knows is that he has no choice. This world - cold and grey and ending – isn’t something he can ever let his daughter live in. The thought of her never existing, of a new universe without her in it…

Well, that’s just not going to happen.

Tony jumps and he reaches, his tech an extension of him. The nanoparticles flow between the suit and the gauntlet, scooping the stones off with almost laughable ease. He steps back, feels them settling in place. A surge of energy runs up his arms as they attach, burning through body and soul.

The whole universe opens up before him: vast, beautiful and terrifying. Time settles on his tongue, bloody and bittersweet, before exploding into an infinite loop of beginnings and endings without any order. The stones whisper to him, each in a different voice scorching themselves into every fibre of his being. In that moment, everything here seems so insignificant. Something that has happened so many times before and will continue to happen: destruction for the sake of regrowth.

Just when Tony thinks he might lose himself in it, a familiar hand on his shoulder grounds him. It’s Steve – bloody, earnest, _worthy_ Steve. He looks as broken as Tony feels. His fingers hover over the gauntlet.

“Together, win or lose. That’s what we said,” he whispers, then places his hand on the stones. The nanoparticles flow onto the second hand and Tony feels the burning lessen, feels the fabric of the universe become just a bit more bearable to look into.

Then another hand clasps his. With static fingers that are more used to holding hammers than armour, with eyes so haunted he thinks the thunder might have left them forever, Thor joins them. A few seconds later there is Clint, calloused grip almost as tight as his jaw. Finally, Hulk’s green hand umbrellas them all. The nanoparticles greet them like the old friends they are, and with each new hand the strain on Tony lessens.

Thanos tries to attack them. The army tries to move on them. But the stones serve a different master now. Tony bends reality and breaks minds. It’s not a difficult task for a man who is used to molding a million nanoparticles into whatever form he pleases. Thanos and his army meet increasingly unlikely obstacles in their attempts to reach Tony. Some are attacked by thousands of flesh-eating ladybugs, while others are crushed under a giant rubber duck that appears out of thin air. He’s particularly proud of the small moon he creates, just to throw at Thanos.

Meanwhile, Tony gathers his own army around him, made up of his own friends. More and more people join their little huddle, some not even touching the gauntlet, but simply the person next to them. The stones spread their powers eagerly, relishing the number of minds and souls they have to work with. They synch together, all of them: whispering minds, moving bodies and singing souls.

Some of them, Tony recognises. Pepper’s fire, Rhodey’s grounding calm. The thinks he can taste the red of Wanda’s magic, can here a purple growl of T’Challa’s soul. Others are new, but still wonderful, still determined.

A chain of souls, united in infinity.

Tony had dreamed of an armour around the Earth once. He had imagined a shield (not a SHIELD) to protect this planet, even if he had never imagined it quite this way. In all Thanos’ supposedly infinite knowledge, he hadn’t accounted for one thing: people. Stupid, stubborn people, all willing to stare into the abyss for just a chance at life.

All at once, Tony drops his tricks, shushes the stones until they quiet into a soft murmur. The army stands still before them now. In Thanos’ mind Tony can already read his defeat.

“Together,” Tony agrees with Steve without so much as moving his lips. All around him the word echoes back at him.

He gives the stones a simple instruction as he moves his fingers together.

Dust, he thinks.

SNAP.

The world burns white and Thanos’ army crumbles into nothing before their eyes. It’s a gentle death, almost, and far more than any of them deserve.

Then there is silence. There is dust.

Tony orders the nanoparticles to release and they form a ball around the stones and drop to the ground. Even after the contact is broken they still echo inside everyone. All that is left of them is the burned blackness of Tony’s right arm. It goes up to his elbow and he isn’t quite sure he’ll be able to use it again: and when he looks around he sees most of them have some sort of damage – a blackened finger, a burnt out eye. All worth it for what they’ve managed to do.

“Told you we’d do it together,” Steve says, panting, clutching his injured arm. Tony wonders if that will heal.

He smiles a crooked smile. “You said we’d lose together. I kinda prefer winning.”

It’s over. They’ve won.

* * *

When the dust settles there are hugs and tears. War Machine is there first, helmet folding back to reveal a tired looking Rhodey - blood on his cheeks, bruises under his eyes. Without saying anything, he pulls Tony into his arms. The hug is awkward because of their bulky suits but neither them seems to care. These arms have carried each other through funerals, through trauma, through anxiety, and a broken back. These are the arms that welcomed Tony home after Afghanistan, that held him up when he stumbled, broken out of the Guardians’ ship.

They have been home to each other for so long that not even metal can keep them apart.

Rhodey’s voice is rough when he speaks, “What were you _thinking_ , Tones? Going for the stones like that… You’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“Don’t worry, platypus,” Tony answers, “I’m not planning on doing this again.”

Then there is Peter, sobbing, switching erratically between calling him ‘Tony’ and ‘Mr. Stark’. He clings to the kid like cellophane and for a few seconds he’s not sure even May could peel them away from each other. But then Pepper falls into his arms with a screech of metal against metal and a wave of blonde hair that sticks in his eyes and mouth, and he’s never tasted anything better. There are so many other hugs to come, so many people to meet up again, so many things to celebrate - but all Tony can think about is Morgan.

“Let’s go home,” he whispers to Pepper, “I want to go home.”

There are tears in Pepper’s eyes as she places soft fingers on his blackened palm, a wet smile plays over her lips and Tony is reminded, once again, how unbelievably lucky he is to have ended up with a woman like her.

“You should see a doctor,” she says.

“No, I should see my daughter.”

And god, his _daughter_. There isn’t a more beautiful word in the world. His daughter, alive and breathing - his daughter who will never have to watch the 15 videos he made (one for every year until she’s twenty). His daughter, who he’ll get to see grow up, who he’ll get to teach to fix up a car, and write code.

He grabs Pepper’s hand with his healthy one, entwines their metal fingers, and without so much as a goodbye to the rest, flies off home. They come down by the porch with two loud _thunks_ , Tony still dizzy from the power of the stones, Pepper with the steady balance of a woman used to walking on stiletto heels.

Happy bursts out barely a second later - suit as prim as every but his tie just slightly crooked. Apart from that time in the hospital, this might be the most disheveled Tony has ever seen the man. His eyes are wide, no one gets a word out before he’s got his arms around both Pepper and Tony.

“We saw the news... They’re saying there was a surge of energy and I was sure I was going to have to tell Morgan you were dead. I can’t do that, Tony. I’m not good with children.”

There are about twenty witty comments on the tip of Tony’s tongue but he holds them in, for once leaning into the hug. There’s too much relief, too much sheer luck involved in all of this for Tony to be glib right now.

He lets go when he catches sight of a little face behind the screen door. He crosses the porch in three quick steps, pulls the door back, and drops to his knees in front of his daughter.

Her eyes are wide and wet and Tony wonders how much she understood of what was happening. How much did Happy tell her? What did Pepper say before she left? Even if they said nothing, Morgan is a clever kid, smarter than Tony already and with a lot more common sense than he has ever had thanks to her wonderful mom.

Tony pushes some stray hairs out of her face, wipes a tear from her cheek with his good hand. He pulls her in with that same hand, folding her into his chest, with his head on top of hers, burying his face in her hair. For a moment they just sit there.

Then he whispers the four most important words in creation. More important than ‘I am Iron Man’, more important even than ‘we’re having a baby’, or ‘will you marry me’.

“I love you 3000.”


	2. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve has difficult choices to make.

The decision to go back in time and place the Infinity Stones back where they belong is as easy as breathing for Steve. The thought of seeing Peggy again, one last time, is so tantalising it feels almost electric beneath his skin.

Bruce dwarfs the controls of the time-machine to an almost comical extent - his giant fingers pressing gently at the keys. A part of Steve is a bit nervous at the sight of it, the memory of the old, temperamental Hulk still fresh in his mind, and the sight of Scott returning from the quantum realm as a baby fresher yet. He would have preferred to have Tony at the wheel, but his friend is now officially retired and has washed his hands of time travel.

In the man’s own words, “I’m a former addict, Rogers. Who knows what kind of mad ideas might pop into my head if I step near that thing again. No, you can get someone else to do it. Oh - and if you happen to see my dear old dad again, tell him to spend more time with his family. That big old house gets lonely.”

Which leads Steve here: in a forest, with a time machine and a giant green genius at the controls. Sam and Bucky stand to the side, arguing about some undoubtedly petty thing. Just the sight of them brings warmth to his chest. Even now that the dust has settled, he can barely believe they’re back.

When he announces his departure, they both step closer to wish him luck and give him a hug. Time travel is still dangerous and he can tell by their expressions that the thought of him going doesn’t sit well with them. After all, they hadn’t been there to witness its creation and success with the others.

Sam is smiling - eyes bright, grin crooked. There’s a youthful enthusiasm to him that Steve sometimes still wishes he had; this unshakeable faith that there must be some way to make everything right again. Bucky is much less optimistic. The lines of worry and confusion might have been wiped from his face, and with his full cheeks and fluffy hair he looks healthier than ever - but there’s still something about him that is decidedly not-Bucky. A strange air of caution or weariness that seems to hang around him like a cloud. When Steve steps onto the machine, he looks at the two of them and he can’t help but see the balance between them.

Then Bruce reaches the end of the countdown and Steve shrinks into the disorienting white-blue of the quantum realm.

Most of the stops go without a hitch - though he does have a very confusing talk with a bald woman who refers to herself as ‘the Ancient One’ - until he reaches the planet of the soul stone. Here, he has the difficult task of not just returning the stone, but hopefully bringing someone back with him.

Vormir is a bleak and deserted place. Immediately upon stepping foot on the planet, Steve is filled with an immeasurable sorrow. It feels strangely like the instant between watching a bullet fly and putting up his shield - as if the balance between life and death has been turned from a moment into a place. When he gets to the gate, he is greeted by none other than Johann Schmidt. The sight of him in his dark cloak, stuck on this planet forever, almost makes Steve laugh.

So this is where his enemies end up. He doesn’t envy them. The Red Skull recognises him and turns to him gleefully.

“It’s been a while, Kapitein,” he croaks, “I had not expected to see you here.”

“Nor I you,” Steve answers.

“But I fear you do not understand the laws of this place, Captain. To receive the stone, something must be given in return: and I see only you.”

“Just point me to the cliff and I’ll figure it out on my own.”

Steve stands at the edge of the cliff, staring down the place where one of his best friends lost her life. It hasn’t been long since Clint left, the scuff marks of his struggle with Natasha are still visible on the ground. Steve takes the shimmering stone from his pocket, feels its power surging under his skin.

“I’ve brought you back,” he says. It feels so stupid to speak to a stone, and yet - hadn’t he heard their voices back on earth? Hadn’t he heard Tony whisper to them with a single thought?

To his surprise, the stone answers instantly. _Home,_ it says, _water, stones and silence._

“Yes,” Steve says, “And I’ll release you, under one condition.”

_You want the Spider,_ it hisses, _you forget a deal can never be undone._

“A soul for a soul, isn’t that the price?” Steve argues, if anyone thinks his stubborn ass is going to lose an argument with a _stone_ , they’ve got another thing coming, “Her soul for yours. Her soul for he universe to remain intact.”

_We do not trade lives, was it not you who said this?_

“Yeah, well. I’ve come to realise I’m not always right. Now, do you want me to put you back where you belong or should I just leave again.”

He’s not sure his stern ‘Captain’ voice will work on a stone, but for Natasha, he has to try.

_You play with the fabric of the universe, as if it is a toy. It is not. It is reality. It is the connection between all that is and all that can be. You would risk all this for one soul?_

“I have it on good authority that I am an idiot. So, yes.”

_Very well, worthy one. There is something to be admired about the tenacity of your species, about your willingness to sacrifice for greater things. Take your one in 14,000,605 chance, there will not be a second._

And with that, the stone burns bright, diffusing everything with a strange orange light.

Steve finds himself kneeling in shimmering water, sun forever setting over the horizon. In his arms is the unconscious form of Natasha. Her braid has become undone, red-white hair fanning around her head like a pool of blood. For a second, he thinks he’s been had, he thinks the only thing he will be bringing back home is an empty shell.

Then her eyes open wide, as she almost chokes on her first, sharp intake of breath. When she sees him, she sits up so fast her head almost slams into his.

“Steve?!” she gasps, “What is - Where’s the stone?”

“It’s -” Steve begins, but then her eyes widen even further as he looks around in desperation. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen her this out of control.

“Where’s Clint?” she interrupts, then, horrified, “He didn’t…?”

“Clint is _fine_ ,” Steve says, “He’s home, with his family.”

A moment of silence stretches between them, disturbed only by the gentle lapping of the water around them. Natasha shoots him a calculating look, then lets out a resigned breath.

“Am I dead?” she asks, quietly.

“No, we won. Just this once, everybody lives.”

She looks at him as if he’s grown a second head. Either that, or she has suddenly forgotten how to speak English entirely.

Steve lays his hands on her shoulders to ground her, “ _We won._ ”

It takes another second or so, and then she smiles. It’s a soft, hopeful smile that he has only seen a handful of times. It makes him feel like he personally turned on the sun.

“How?” she asks, incredulously.

“Together,” he says.

The two of them walk back to the ship, and on the way, Steve explains everything that happened. When they arrive, Steve hands one of the vials of Pym Particles to Natasha. She slots it smoothly into her wristband, before looking over the desolate landscape with an almost wistful look in her eyes.

“I still can’t believe it,” she says.

“Me neither.”

“Are you coming back with me?” she asks.

“I’ve got one more stop to make,” he answers.

Something in his face must have changed, because her face goes from wistful to analytical before he even has time to blink. She doesn’t say anything, though, and just steps forward to give him a hug, and a soft kiss on his cheek.

Then they both click the button on their wrists and part ways.

* * *

He sees Peggy, and for a moment, he is overcome with the desire to touch her, to hold her in his arms. All he has to do is reach out and knock on the door, and he can have everything he ever wanted. They can have the dance he promised her, they can marry and grow old together. 

The vial of Pym Particles feels heavy in his pocket. He could go back further, to just after the war. He could shave his head and grow a beard so no one would recognise him, then find her and-

\- And what? Live with her until it’s time to come out of the ice? Watch her grow old and lose her memories? He doesn’t think he could handle going to her funeral a second time. Still, the thought of just touching her again is almost more than he can stand. He’s about to throw all good sense out the window and knock, when the door at the other side of the glass slams open.

Steve slinks back into the shadows and watches Howard Stark march in. Like Peggy, the man is a bit older than when Steve knew him: fine lines creasing his brow, and his eyes a lot harder than they were during the war. He’s reminded of Tony’s words to him before he left.

_“Tell him to spend more time with his family.”_

Tony isn’t even alive yet. That’s a strange thought. If Steve stayed behind he would see him grow up in the newspapers. They wouldn’t ever be able to speak again, not with Steve supposedly still under the ice, and Tony so close to Howard: one of the few who would still recognise him. That’s just… painful to think about.

He wouldn’t get to see little Morgan grow up - and in a decade or two Steve would read about Howard and Maria Stark’s death in the paper, and know it to be by Bucky’s hand.

Oh, God. _Bucky_. At this very moment he’s somewhere out there being tortured by HYDRA, forced into submission by endless shocks and memory wipes. The thought of it sends a violent burst of hatred coursing through his stomach. A part of him wants to go out there right now and rescue him. But he can’t. How many important historical deaths in the 20th century are by the Winter Soldier’s hand? Probably more than even HYDRA would admit. How much would this timeline change?

And Natasha. God, in a decade or two she’ll be in the Red Room, being ruthlessly trained into something she’s not. The thought of knowing what she’s going through and doing nothing is already making his fingers itch.

Bucky is waiting for him in 2023, more whole than Steve had ever hoped he could be again. So is Sam - who won’t even be born for… so long. Clint, Bruce, Thor, Wanda: he might never see them again. His little found family, the people he’s been fighting for since he thawed. A bond stretching across a decade, solidified through blood and pain - he would give all that up if he left to be with Peggy now.

And what about the future Peggy already has? Full of success and happiness. What if it doesn’t work out between them at all? Their love was deep and true, but they hadn’t known each other long. There are so many things that could still go wrong.

Steve stands at the window for another second, taking in Peggy Carter in all her glory. Crimson lips, immaculate curls, a back so straight it would make most rulers jealous: she’s going to take this world by a storm. Or, she already has.

Steve smiles to himself. He was the luckiest man, to be loved by such an extraordinary woman, but he doesn’t belong in this time anymore. This world is no longer his - this life is just a could-have-been.

Yes, Steve longs for peace, for a happily ever after. But, for once, he’ll take a leaf out of Tony’s book and look to the future instead of the past. It’s time to move forward.

Steve slots the vial of Pym Particles into his wristband and presses the button before he has second thoughts. The last thing he sees in 1970 is bright-red lipstick and dark brown hair - it’s enough for a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve's ending is so conflicting for me. Like, I'm glad he got a happy ending, I just don't like the route they took to it. So this was just my little fix to tie up loose ends. In my mind he still passes on the shield to Sam and then goes on to live a blissfully domestic life (with Sharon) in New York, where he becomes a famous artist. Of course, that's for everybody to fill in on their own :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a short little snippet because my thunder boy deserves some PEACE.

Staring out over the little fisher’s town that is now called Asgard makes something clench in Thor’s gut as always. Too much of this place reminds him of the cliff on which he said goodbye to his father, the crashing waves recall his mother: beautiful, powerful, dangerous. He can’t be here, not now, not for a while. The pain is still too fresh.

Yes, Thanos is defeated, those who fell to dust have been brought back. Yes, they’ve won. But for Thor, this doesn’t feel like winning. His family is still gone, his people still decimated and in the past few years he has not shown any of the leadership qualities his trusty old hammer still seems to believe he has.

So, for now, he needs distance.

Thor leaves Asgard in Valkyrie’s capable hands, with the assurance that he will drop in every once in a while, even if just to makes sure she hasn’t fallen back into her old, Sakaar habits. He’ll return to his people, be the King he was always meant to be, but first he needs to become Thor again. First, he needs to find some measure of peace.

Peace, for Thor, isn’t the same as for most other people. Peace isn’t tranquil cliffsides or quiet hours of reading. For better or for worse, Thor is the God of Thunder. He finds calm in battles, in raging fires, in the bright cacophony of a summer storm. Midgard cannot provide him with any of these things, it is too well protected, by too many.

So, Thor boards a creaky old ship with the strange, gunbearing Rabbit and his friends. He travels the stars, stops on beautiful planets, obliterates violent tyrants and makes peace with pesky little thieves.

One day, Thor sets foot on an empty planet. There are vibrant purple plants and strange three-legged animals. A lake sits crisp and clear between mountains, while flowers crest rolling hills. He sits on one of these hills, grass tickling his legs and simply looks. In his mind he imagines the old spires of Asgard between the hills, white roads snaking down, a brilliant rainbow of a road crossing over the lake. This could be a home like no other.

Something scaly brushes his foot and Thor looks down to see a green snake sliding languidly past. He smiles and gently grabs hold of the animal. It curls around his arms, sticks out its tongue in a manner so familiar, so like Loki, it almost brings tears to his eyes. Yes, this is the perfect place.

Thor brings the snake closer and-

“BLEEGGH!!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is the last one, and they all live happily ever after. Ugh, I really hate the fact that I had to make an 'Everybody Lives AU', but I guess that's just how it is now. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoyed it :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, and shout out to spaceyeli for proofreading and crying with me. What did all of you think of Endgame and the endings? 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel (unfortunately), nor do I own the sentence ‘Just this once, everybody lives.’ which was a brilliant line written by Steven Moffat for the 9th Doctor in episode ‘the Doctor Dances’ of season one of the renewed Doctor Who.


End file.
